Pink Champange
by DistrictHeathdene
Summary: A young Effie Trinket is taking her first steps into the world. An ambitious young woman, looking to achieve her dreams of becoming a stylist and dragging her parents out of debt instead finds herself immersed in the darker, truer world of the hunger games and the city she lives in. Effie/Haymitch. Rated M in case.


Effie Trinket smiled coyly at her reflection, waggling her fingers in shy flirtation, the way she might do if she saw any handsome men at the party. There was sure to be a wide selection of them, everybody who was anybody was going to be there, and for once in her life, Effie had a chance to be somebody. She contained an excited squeal behind her teeth as she grinned, her painted pink lips spreading wide.

A woman's gasp came from behind her and her mother stepped forward to place her hands on her daughter's shoulders. The two smiled at each other through the glass of the mirror, the fairy lights around its edges twinkling and casting sparkles of light on their skin.

"You look...a vision, Effie!" Her mother purred, almost pressing a kiss to Effie's cheek, though not quite, in case her purple lipstick left a stain on the powder Effie had so carefully applied.

"Thanks, Diane," Effie glowed back. Her mother didn't allow Effie to call her Mother or Mum; she said it made her feel old, something that was thoroughly despised in the Capitol. Diane, like many of the Capitol's citizens, had gone to great lengths to assure she didn't display any signs of ageing. The skin of her face was pulled back with Botox so that it didn't crease the way faces usually do, her lips were blown up to twice their natural size and her eyebrows were threaded so thin that they were barely noticeable unless she drew them back on.

"You're welcome, my darling," Diane crooned, but her face remained expressionless save the wide smile plastered there. "You look just as I did at your age! To think, my little baby, eighteen, a woman! Heading out into the world!" Effie nodded politely, but delicately so that her wig wouldn't topple. It was placed precariously on top of her head; pastel pink curls studded with life-sized model butterflies painted in varying shades of purple and blue, complete with wings that really fluttered. They matched her dress; a number the same colour as her wig and printed with the butterfly pattern. The skirt was held up with boned supports so that it flared out at her hips at a 70 degree angle. The bodice was tight around her torso, pushing up her breasts so that they stood to attention at her chest, decorated with a sparkly powder that would shimmer in different lights. The dress was sleeveless but there were tight armbands just below her shoulders with streams of translucent fabric trailing from them. Effie though the gossamer sheen of them gave the impression of wings.

The outfit had been made specifically for her, it had cost their family a fortune and it dug into Effie's skin uncomfortably, but it made her look beautiful, so it was worth it. It was a very important night, no expense or effort had been spared by their hosts, nor by the guests. Effie was attending a party at the manor home of new head game maker Seneca Crane. He was throwing the ball to celebrate his first year on the job, with the 72nd annual hunger games quickly approaching. It was a Capitol tradition that the new head game maker holds a spectacular party when he or she is appointed; any excuse for a party in the Capitol is seized with both hands. The game maker parties were more than just celebrations though, they were opportunities. Those interested in acquiring a job in the vast industry generated by the hunger games fought their way in for an invitation. The lucky few who obtained said invitation had the opportunity to talk, flirt and drink their way into getting a job, whatever worked.

Effie was a motivated young woman, she always had been. Her family were rich, but not as much as the higher-ups, the truly wealthy of the Capitol. Effie wanted to change that, she wanted her family to have all they wanted, more than they needed, a life of true luxury; one where the enormous debts hanging over their heads were no longer a threat. She had often heard her parents whispering about it when they thought she couldn't hear, the dreaded money problems. Of course to the outside they looked as if they had all they need, lush, expensive things to decorate their homes, their bodies. But it was an illusion, the material goods they owned were barely theirs, threatened to be taken away at any moment if they could not pay up. Effie wanted more than an extravagant life, true, she was a material young woman, like all those in the Capitol, but she also understood that this life was not to be taken for granted.

When she was a young girl, only twelve, they had tried to take their home away from them. The peacekeepers had stormed in, tried to handcuff her father, throwing around words Effie didn't then understand. Her grandmother had intervened, saved them, by loaning them a huge sum of money. It wasn't enough, and they had had to take out a new loan, one they were still paying back. Yes, more than an extravagant life, Effie wanted a secure life; one where their things were truly theirs, one where they were safe from the plague of debt and the fear of poverty.

She was also an ambitious woman, and she wanted the job for her as well as for the benefit of her family. Ever since she was a child Effie was interested in fashion, dressing up her dolls and herself in ludicrous amounts of makeup and creating tiny outfits for them. When the hunger games were broadcast across their television screens, she wasn't interested in the violence, was scared of it even. When the games truly began she would hide behind their plush sofa and play games with her toys, ones where they lived a life like hers, rather than ones where they had to fight, ones where they had to die. But in the run up to the games, her mother was hard pressed to drag her away from the screen, her tiny, podgy hands pressed to it, her eyes glazed over as she watched the stylists work their magic.

It was her dream to be a stylist, to bring her ideas to life in fabric and jewels and powdered faces. That was why she had dressed herself as best as she could, done her hair nicely and painted her face for the grand party. Everyone would be looking their best, but if she wanted her fashion sense to be noted and appreciated, then she had to look even better than them.

"Effie, your car is here!" Her father's shout reached her from downstairs and her heart began to skip faster in her chest with excitement. She had been to parties before, of course, but nothing that would be as grand as this, and nothing with stakes so high.

Diane gave her another grin and gestured for her to exit the room, leaving the fairy lights twinkling behind them. Effie wanted to take the stairs two at a time like she used to do on the morning of her birthday, but her shoes prevented her from doing anything other than a teetering hobble, so she tried to slow her pace to a more elegant one.

Her father waited for her at the bottom of the staircase in a pressed suit even though neither he nor Diane would be attending the ball with her. His eyes twinkled when he saw the two women, and his lips spread beneath his curled moustache.

"My girls! You look wonderful!" He pulled his daughter in for a hug when she reached him, not as careful about wrinkling her outfit as her mother had been. Effie resisted the urge to pull away and smooth down her dress, instead wrapping her arms around him and breathing in the familiar scent of cigars and after dinner mints.

"Thank you, Daddy," She smiled politely when he released her. Unlike Diane, her father had no objection to being called endearments, even ones which suggested his age. He wasn't as materially driven as many people in the Capitol, content for his age to be known and his middle to grow larger than it should. His appearance was tame by Capitol standards, with his only unnatural adornments being the magenta dye on his hair and his bushy moustache.

"You are most welcome, my princess," He pressed a whiskery kiss to her cheek before patting her lightly on the shoulder. "Come on, your car is waiting," Effie blew one last kiss goodbye to her parents before she approached the door and stepped out into the night air. The cool breeze raised goose bumps on her bare skin and she envisioned it as her body bristling with excitement.

She took tiny, teetering steps toward the car waiting for her and imagined that they were her first steps into her new world.


End file.
